Where Fear Blooms
by MyOtherPenName
Summary: Crossover with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Wild assumptions about Balance Demons, apocalypses and things that go bump in the night. Spoilers for Buffy Season 7, Angel Season 5 and, of course, Batman Begins. Time to play.
1. Chapter 1

Where Fear Blooms

By MyOtherPenName

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, just borrowing 'em and I'll put 'em back when I'm done.

Mild spoilers if you didn't see Season 7 of Buffy, Season 5 of Angel and Batman Begins.

Time to play...

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"You have to understand that this is highly irregular."

"I do," the petite young blonde woman assured him. The younger, but taller girl next to her nodded in agreement.

Keating softened his tone as he put their purses into a locker. "We don't get too many visitors here at Arkham, Miss Summers, and the patient you've asked to see, well, she's in the maximum security ward -"

"Which requires a completely different level of protocol."

Cursing himself for starting at the newcomer's voice, Keating straightened and forced a smile. "Hello, Doctor Crane. This is Buffy Summers."

"And my sister, Dawn," Buffy put in.

The doctor's icy blue gaze fixed itself on Buffy Summers' slight form as if taking her measure. Most of the staff had been subjected to that gaze at one time or another and Keating felt a flash of sympathy for her.

Instead of wilting under Crane's attention, as most of the staff and the occasional visitors did, Buffy Summers drew herself up and flashed Crane a bright smile. "Thank you for making the arrangements on such short notice, Doctor."

"Yes, well, I was somewhat curious about the urgency," Crane said, turning on his heel, giving no other indication that the girl was to follow. "I'll take them from here, Mr. Keating."

She nodded her thanks to Keating and they trotted after Crane, leaving the Chief of Security to wonder what would bring two young women to visit one of Arkham's most dangerous inmates.

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A long bloodcurdling shriek broke the silence.

Crane turned to Buffy, still ignoring Dawn, gauging her reaction. Finding none, he stopped at an elevator. "I really shouldn't be allowing this visit. Dana's become increasingly agitated during the past two weeks and we're still adjusting her medications."

"Two weeks?" Dawn shot Buffy a meaningful look. "Like around the ninth?"

"I would have to check my files," Crane said, ushering them into the elevator, his lack of reaction not telling Dawn anything. He was a cold one, this Doctor Crane, and Dawn was immediately suspicious of people she couldn't read. "But I believe you might be correct. I don't recall any specific significance to the date. Perhaps you could enlighten me, Miss Summers?"

Dawn felt herself flinch under the intensity of his gaze, the Doctor turning the tables on her. It was easier when he ignored her, she decided. Okay, so he was kind of a hottie, but there was something scary about him. And if she told him about the portal opening under Gotham City, he'd probably give her a room next to Dana. "Oh, uh, it's nothing. Really. Just, uh, you know, my birthday."

Lame. And if Buffy could have rolled her eyes in that confined space without proving the lie, Dawn was sure she would have.

The doors of the elevator opened and Dawn hurried out ahead of the Doctor and Buffy. "Wow, it's all Silence of the Lambs down here. Without the Hannibal Lecter."

"This," Crane said, icily, "is the maximum security ward."

Buffy shot Dawn a look, warning her silently to think before she said anything else. "Remember what I said."

Before Dawn could retort, one of the inmates threw himself against the Plexiglas barrier, getting their attention. He pointed at Dawn, eyes wide in horror.

"You're not real," he shouted. "Not real, glowing green death."

"The Key," cried the inmate in the cell next to him. "So pretty. Kill it."

Suddenly, the corridor filled with chanting. The Key. Pretty. Green. Glowing. Die.

Dawn wished she could drop right through the floor - but not out loud, because that would only make things worse - just to get away.

Crane peered up and down the corridor. "That's very unusual."

"Well, you do have the keys," Dawn reminded him, quickly, ignoring the daggers that Buffy was staring at her. "And you know, you are kind of pretty, but I don't think you glow or anything."

He didn't say anything, just stared at her. Finally, he heaved a small sigh and brought them to the last cell, ignoring the sudden burst of activity in the maximum security ward as they passed each screaming, agitated inmate.

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Buffy looked at Dana, the Slayer who never had a chance, lying on the narrow bed of her cell, her hair a matted mess, and found herself thinking of the hallucination she'd had nearly three years before. Thanks to that demon, she'd been torn between this reality and believing she was in an institution and that her life as Slayer was a delusion. She shook off the memory and focused on Dana.

"I'm sorry." The words escaped in a soft whisper.

It was enough and Dana jumped to her feet, with a snarl, stopping short when she saw Buffy. It was a look of instant recognition, even though they'd never met. Oh, she'd known about Dana, but Giles insisted on taking care of it. In retrospect, maybe that wasn't such a good idea, Buffy mused.

The recognition came from one place. Dreams of past Slayers.

Dana's aggressive pose relaxed and her lips tried several times before she formed the word. "Buffy."

"Dana."

"It's coming. He's coming. Blood and death and balance -" Dana broke off abruptly, staring beyond Buffy.

Remembering Crane, Buffy turned. "Any chance we can have a little private family time, Doc?"

"I'm afraid not," he said, peering past her at the Slayer in the cell. "This is the most vocal she's been in months. I'd be interested in speaking further about your connection."

"Maybe another time," Buffy dismissed him.

Before she could say anything further, Dana spoke again. "You think you know. Who you are. What's to come. You haven't even begun."

Suddenly snapping her gaze to Dawn, Dana's expression darkened. Hissing between clenched teeth, Dana spat, "She died because of you! Not real! Evil!"

"The hardest thing in this world," Dawn said, stepping closer to the Plexiglas. "Is to live in it."

Dana stepped back and lowered her head. When she looked up again, she took both hands and ran them down her face, mimicking Buffy's vision of the Primitive smearing mud as warpaint. Her eyes narrowed and she began chanting - or ranting, if you didn't realize it was several different languages at once - faster and faster.

Buffy turned a questioning gaze to Dawn. "You get any of that?"

Dawn nodded. "Some of it. My Phoenician's not so great, but since she repeated herself in Egyptian and Sumerian, I think she's just repeating the same thing over and over."

"Which is?" The question from the Doctor startled Buffy. She'd nearly forgotten he was there. Very unlike her. And if she wasn't sure he was human, she would have had an urge to stake him.

"Head and heart!" Dana pounded at the Plexiglas. "Head and heart. Head and heart. Head and heart. Headandheartheadandheartheadandheart -"

"I think we need to end this visit. Now. You've agitated my patient," Crane paused and nodded meaningfully back down the corridor, where soft chanting about The Key could be heard, "all of my patients quite enough for one day."

"Guess somebody's gonna be slipping extra Thorazine into the chocolate pudding today," Dawn commented, drawing another annoyed glance from the Doctor. "What? Thorazine's the most commonly used -"

"BALANCE!"

They all stopped and stared at Dana.

"He wants balance. Balance of evil," Dana's words came so quickly they practically melted together. "He's here! He's here! Ra's Al Ghul. Shadow men. Death. I can hear the screams! Head and heart. Stake the vampire! Behead the demon! Spirits of the Interregnum I call! The wolf. The ram. The hart. The balance can't be restored."

"Oh, it can," Buffy told her. "I promise you."

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"Interesting."

Jonathan Crane stopped the tape and waited for Al Ghul to say more. There was a long silence, as Al Ghul studied the image of Dana and her two visitors.

"I want you to find out what she's afraid of, Doctor."

"She's too dangerous."

Ra's Al Ghul nodded and slid a small case across the desk. "This should make her easier to handle. I will expect a report in three days."

Crane peered at the yellow liquid in the vial. "What is this?"

"It won't interfere with those other drugs you feed her, Doctor," his master said, in a tone that warned him not to ask further questions. "Nor will it interfere with the toxin."

As he got up to leave, he didn't tear his gaze from the vial. Another miracle drug. A new patient to test. The possibilities...

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"You're not real!"

The shout floated up to the rooftop where the Batman was perched. He peered down into the alley, taking measure of the scene below. Two girls and what looked like another Arkham escapee were down there. The girls had the man cornered. Not exactly what he was expecting, but then, this was Gotham City. He decided to take a closer look and figure out who, if anyone, needed to be rescued.

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"Every time," Dawn complained. "I'm starting to get a complex."

"Can I help it if you're like the Pied Piper for these guys," Buffy countered. "So far, you've found every one of them except Dana."

"Four. We've found four. I heard there were like a hundred of these guys running around." Dawn folded her arms across her chest. "How come we're looking for her? Kennedy or Rhona -"

"Giles thinks she'll respond to me. Better than she would any of the others."

"And maybe you feel responsible."

"And maybe I do."

Dawn rested both palms on her sister's shoulders. "Buffy, you couldn't know -"

"I could've thought -"

"You had bigger problems. You know, like the end of the world?"

Buffy sighed and then shoved Dawn out of the way, grabbing the Arkham patient and throwing him into the brick wall of the alley. With a crash, he collapsed in a filthy heap. "It's always the end of the world."

"How many apocalypses does this make," Dawn asked, with a grin.

"I've lost count. And this Al Goop guy doesn't really sound like much."

"Al Ghul," Dawn corrected. "He's already made his first move. Look what he did to this city. Trying to kill them with fear. And he's supposed to have an army."

Buffy waved her hand, dismissively. "Not an army. A league. Big deal. I've got an army of Slayers, a badass Wicca, a one-eyed carpenter and my little sister. Who's gonna win this throwdown?"

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In the shadows, Batman listened. Who were these women? He was going to find out. Suddenly, the small blonde's head swung in his direction.

"I know you're there. Come out and don't make me come after you. Trust me, you don't want to piss me off tonight."

More amused than afraid, Batman dropped to the pavement in front of the girls, staring down at the one called Buffy.

The other girl let loose with half a shriek before she converted it into a delighted squeal. "Batman. Oh my god! He's real! Buffy! Look!"

Batman said nothing, just continued to focus his attention on the obvious leader.

Still wearing a grin, the younger one circled him. "Angel? Is that you?"

Rolling her eyes in a 'what can you do expression,' Buffy sighed. "Of course he's not Angel."

"Oh, come on. You were thinking it, too. Look at him. Tall. Dark. Broody. Who else could it be?"

"No leather." Buffy smiled at the other girl. "Besides, he's got a pulse. Sorry, Dawnie, our friend here is someone else altogether."

"Who are you," Batman asked, finally breaking his silence, his voice low and menacing, though it seemed to have no effect on these two, whoever they were.

"I'm Buffy. This is my sister, Dawn."

Without launching into any preamble, he simply said, "Ra's Al Ghul is dead."

Buffy's expression remained light, but her eyes were sharp as they didn't leave him for an instant. "How did he die?"

"The train crash last month during the riots."

"It might have slowed him down, but it wouldn't kill him," she shot back.

"It would kill anyone." Or maybe not. This Buffy knew something she wasn't sharing.

"Anyone human. He's not human."

"I've heard the stories and they're just that. Stories." the Batman commented. Ridiculous stories of Al Ghul or Ducard being immortal. "Ra's Al Ghul is dead."

"Then why didn't they find a body? Or body parts?"

"We think he's a Balance Demon or maybe part Balance Demon," the girl, Dawn put in, ignoring the murderous look Buffy shot her. She beamed up at Batman. "That would explain the sixteen generations of stories about him, at least the ones we found in Chinese. We're still looking researching and there might be more. I think we should work together."

"I work alone," Batman found himself saying in unison with Buffy.

"If we don't work together," Dawn said, this time more firmly, "it could mean the end of the world."

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"Fear is a drug."

"Yes it is," Jonathan Crane agreed, not looking up from the equation he was working on. Ra's Al Ghul was gone, possibly dead, probably dead and that meant no more of those amazing blue flowers. Synthesizing the extract was proving dreadfully difficult. Weeks of failure were starting to wear at him.

"I like fear. It tastes like the clotted cream my mummy used to make."

Crane set his pencil down and looked up at the woman again. She'd rescued him that night, helped him recover from the effects of his own drug and Rachel Dawes' taser. Brought him here, to this sanctuary beneath the city. The irony of hiding in the sewers was not lost on him, either. In their nearly three months together, she'd asked nothing of him. She would vanish, sometimes for a day or two, and bring back food for him, or the materials he requested. He never saw her eat and rarely saw her sleep. She didn't touch him or ask him to touch her. It was an odd situation, but it was fine. For now.

The woman he knew only as Drusilla danced over to his desk and looked at the equation he'd been working on. "My pretty, pretty Scarecrow wants the numbers and letters to behave and bring the screaming back."

"That's one way of looking at it," he allowed. If he weren't so obsessed with recreating the fear toxin, he was certain he'd be endlessly entertained with analyzing Drusilla.

"They won't behave. Bad numbers!" Drusilla crumpled up the paper and tossed it into the corner. "If you put the letters in the right order, you might find the spell you're looking for."

"I'm not looking for a spell."

"Then you're looking in the wrong place and there won't be any more delicious fear." Raising a hand, she licked at her fingertips and then looked at him with a predatory stare that he'd never seen her wear before. "No fear and I might become very cross. Very cross indeed."

He got to his feet, not sure if he was going to take a step back or fight when she wailed loudly, throwing her head back.

"Something borrowed. Something blue. Something that blooms in the night." Her gaze focused again on him again, the predator back in the shadows again. "You need flowers for your magic, my pet."

An exciting subject to study indeed. She could truly have some psychic abilities or he could simply have been ranting about the flowers when he'd been suffering the effects of his own toxin. Pushing those thoughts aside, he focused on the important thing. "Can you get them?"

"Don't worry, lamb," Drusilla smiled at him. "We'll bring the screaming back."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Dawn watched her sister lock stares with Batman. They'd been staring at each other for what felt to Dawn was an hour but probably was only about a minute and a half. Since declaring that they worked alone, they'd fallen into this staring match. She was pretty sure if they just started talking, they'd find Dana, stop Al Ghul and his apocalypse and discover they were soul mates. Okay, maybe the soul mates part was pushing it, but Buffy had a thing for tall, dark and broody and they didn't come more tall, dark and broody than this guy. The only negative Dawn could see was that he wasn't a vampire.

"We can handle this," Buffy said, finally. Dawn wasn't sure if her sister was talking about the Arkham escapee, Ra's Al Ghul, Dana or something else altogether. "You can work alone on whatever it is you're doing."

Batman still said nothing and maybe it didn't creep out Buffy, but Dawn found herself getting a serious wiggins.

"Well, good night," Buffy told Batman with a small finger wave, as she brushed past him to the mouth of the alley. "It's a school night and Dawn has to finish her homework. Come on, Dawn."

"Wait." Batman's voice was low but there was a definite command in it.

"Sorry," Buffy called over her shoulder. "School night."

There was the softest rustle of fabric – barely perceptible unless you hunted vamps for a living -- and suddenly there he was in front of them, blocking their way. "I said wait."

"Are you going to talk this time?" Buffy asked, folding her arms across her chest and tapping her boot on the pavement impatiently. "Or are we going to stare at each other all night?"

"What do you know about Ra's Al Ghul?" he asked.

"What do YOU know about him," Buffy countered, matching his intensity. A second later, she laughed, the tension easing out of her shoulders as she dropped her arms at her sides. "This is ridiculous. Look, get this guy back to Arkham, let me get Dawn home and meet me tomorrow night at the Holy Rood Cemetery."

Dawn wasn't completely sure, but she thought she saw Batman relax slightly and possibly even the tiniest hint of a smile on his face. "I thought you worked alone."

Indicating Dawn with a jerk of her head, Buffy flashed Batman a full-on grin. "And you really believe that."

"Not for an instant." With that, he disappeared up and over their heads, back into the alley, Dawn supposed, to gift wrap the Arkham patient for the police.

Now it was on, Dawn told herself. She could hardly wait until tomorrow night.

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"I can hear the stars singing," Drusilla sing-songed, her head thrown back, eyes closed. "They have a message for you, my Scarecrow."

"Do they?" She was gloriously mad, and for the first time since he'd woken up in her care, he allowed his thoughts to linger on just what it could be that Drusilla feared.

Drusilla turned her attention back to him, dancing a slow waltz around him. The candles illuminating their nest cast her shadows on the wall and he watched them. Stopping suddenly, she leaned forward and let her lips brush his ear as she whispered, "Your master is nearly healed and he thirsts for revenge almost as much as you do."

Revenge. On the bat. On Rachel Dawes. On Gotham herself. Al Ghul was alive. Drusilla knew where to get more of those marvelous blue poppies. Fear would rule Gotham again. But first, revenge. Delicious revenge. He'd make more toxin, stronger toxin ---

"An apocalypse," Drusilla announced. "He's going to start with Gotham City. And then he's going to destroy the world."

Al Ghul could, Scarecrow knew.

Suddenly, Drusilla clapped her hand to her head and moaned. "It's the Slayer. She's here. She's going to try to stop it."

Slayer. He knew about the Slayer. Crane knew. It was back there, buried in Crane's memories, before Scarecrow took over. He wasn't sure exactly what those memories were, couldn't quite wrest them out from the compartment where they were locked away, but there was something there. Something that brought a delicious chill along his spine. Just a frisson, really. But looking at Drusilla, he knew that this Slayer was something she feared. A great deal. And oh, how he wanted to explore that.

"She changed everything," Drusilla told him, answering his unspoken question. "Changed the rules. Drove us underground. Nasty Slayers everywhere. Even in your precious Arkham."

The memory he'd been prying at finally came loose and he saw her. Her name escaped him for the moment, but he remembered her particular brand of madness. The file didn't do her justice. It painted the girl as a victim. Both parents murdered. Abducted by the murderer. Tortured. And then suddenly, found. She was catatonic for years until she woke up violently. Dana – yes, that was her name – danced through Los Angeles leaving a delightful pile of bodies. She arrived in Arkham, heavily sedated but still ranting and so deliciously dangerous until Al Ghul had given him the key to unlocking her fears. Dana, he – or maybe he was still Crane then – discovered, was still afraid of the monsters under the bed. Monsters like…Drusilla. It was clear to him now. She wasn't human. She was a –

"Yes, my Scarecrow. I'm a vampire."

His lips curled in a smile of pleasure that reached his very core as he gave her fear a name. "And you're afraid of the Slayer."

"Buffy." Drusilla spat out the name with palpable disgust.

"Buffy?" Even as he repeated the name, there was yet another Crane memory answering the question Scarecrow just voiced. Dana's only visitor. Buffy and…some other glowing green girl. He remembered now. "You're afraid of Buffy."

"And you, my Scarecrow, are going to discover what Buffy fears."

He couldn't wait.

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The file didn't make sense.

Dana Barrows belonged at Arkham. Or rather, she would have belonged at Arkham had she lived in Gotham or committed her crimes here. Bruce absently rubbed his chin, fingers rubbing over the stubble, eyes still fixed on the computer screens in front of him.

The screeching of bats – his early warning system – alerted him to the arrival of Alfred in the Batcave. Bearing a tray laden with coffee and warm croissants, Alfred paused and studied the image of the girl on the screen. "Your new project, Master Bruce?"

"She's somebody's project," Bruce commented, taking a sip of the coffee. "Somehow, she ended up in Arkham, even though her crimes were in Los Angeles. The files I've retrieved say that Crane took her because the security in Arkham was one of three facilities capable of holding her."

Alfred set the tray down and leaned in for a closer look at the screen. "What crimes did you say she committed, sir?"

Bruce hit a key and the video of her attack on the Valu-Place employees filled the screen. They watched in silence until Bruce paused the video. "Two girls were looking for her last night in the Narrows. I cross-referenced Arkham's visitors log and got a hit."

Another keystroke and two pictures filled the screen. One was a blonde-haired young woman. The other was a girl with light brown hair. Bruce took another sip of coffee. "Buffy and Dawn Summers, formerly of Sunnydale, California. No known connection to Dana Barrows, other than that visit."

"Sunnydale, sir?"

There was a note in Alfred's voice that pried Bruce's attention away from the screen to the older man's face. "Yes, Alfred. That town in California that was swallowed by a sinkhole two years ago –"

"Buffy is here? In Gotham?" Alfred blinked and then recovered himself. "I daresay I know the connection."

"I'm more interested in how you know this Buffy."

"I don't, sir, not personally I mean." Flashing a small rueful smile. "It would be more accurate to say I know of her."

"And that would be how, exactly?"

"It's a long story."

"We have all day."

"Then it's best I make some more coffee, sir."

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"You'll think he'll show again, Buff?" Xander asked, leaning against a tombstone. After Dawn's description of Batman, Xander kind of hoped he would. It was obvious Dawn was sure he would from the way she pouted at being left behind because of a trig assignment. Looking around, Xander decided that the Narrows' Holy Rood cemetery wasn't as creepy as even the least scary Sunnydale cemetery, but it gave him enough of a wiggins to tighten his grip on his stake.

Buffy shrugged as she scanned the cemetery. "He's got his hands full. That guy running around with the playing cards, the escaped Arkham patients and ----"

A shrill, feminine scream came from the northwest corner of the cemetery.

"The occasional vampire attack," Buffy concluded, running in the direction of the scream.

Xander followed, stumbling over vines and tree roots in the darkness. He tripped over a small headstone and made it just in time to see a girl run past, still clutching the flowers she'd intended for the grave of a loved one. Buffy was taking on three vamps, all male and still not one snappy dresser among them, Xander noted. Knowing Buffy would scold him later for joining the fray, he did it anyway. Just because he only had one eye didn't mean he didn't see enough to be useful in a fight.

A blow to the back of the head dropped Xander to his knees. Okay, maybe someday he'd be useful in a fight, he amended. While he waited for his vision to clear, he watched Buffy fight. She moved with such grace and purpose that it was almost poetry. And she rarely ever ruined her clothes. That, Xander decided, was the most amazing part. He watched as Buffy staked one vamp, pivoted and used the same stake to take out the one that had been trying to sneak up behind her. Within seconds, she had the vamp cowering against a large tree, pinning him with a stake to the chest and her scowl.

"I'm looking for a girl. A Slayer," Buffy began.

"If I saw a Slayer, she'd be dead," the vamp boasted. The vamp, Xander noted, was trying to look tough in a black leather duster and biker boots. He was no Angel. Or Spike. Not that Xander ever particularly cared for either one of them. And boy, was it gratifying to hear the vamp squeak as Buffy pressed the tip of the stake harder. "Okay, I'd probably be dead."

"The girl," Buffy prompted.

"Haven't seen her. But I could find out." The vamp flashed his fangs in what Xander thought was supposed to be an effort to appeal to Buffy's good nature, but just looked pathetic to Xander.

Buffy appeared to consider it and then plunged the stake in. Turning to Xander, she brushed vamp dust from the front of her denim jacket. "How hard should it be to find one girl in a city?"

"You really want me to answer that?" Xander grinned. "And shouldn't we be looking for that ghoul guy, since Willow's mojo is a no-go?"

Buffy clamped a hand over Xander's mouth and tensed, scanning the dark cemetery. A second later, she let go as Dawn emerged from behind a tree. "Aren't you supposed to be studying?"

Dawn flashed a bright smile and shrugged. "I finished. Was he here? Did I miss him? What did he say?"

"You're right on time," came a low voice from behind them.

Buffy pushed Xander and Dawn behind her. It was an instinctive, protective gesture that always made Xander feel like a total girly-boy. She drew herself up. "Batman."

"Buffy."

She moved aside and gestured. "You remember my sister, Dawn. This is Xander."

Xander drew himself up and hoped he'd managed to recover some semblance of dignity. "Hey."

"Told you I don't work alone," Buffy smiled.

Oh man. Xander knew that smile. Buffy was going to tell this Bat-guy everything. And worse, it looked like maybe she had a crush on him. At least this guy was human, not like that jerk the Immortal. And --- "I'm sorry, did you say something?"

"I said hello."

Great. Now the Bat-guy thought he was a total idiot. Or maybe not since now the Bat-guy was totally focused on Buffy.

"So. You're the Slayer."

"And you've been doing your homework." Buffy flashed a meaningful look at Dawn. "At least somebody here has."

"I did it. I just…you know, didn't take my time or anything," Dawn said, with a sheepish grin, shrinking into her navy blue windbreaker.

Buffy perched on a tombstone and gestured for Batman to do the same. "Ready to talk about Slayers, apocalypses and Rats Al Goop?"

"Ra's Al Ghul," Batman and Dawn corrected her simultaneously.

Xander got comfortable. It was going to be a long, interesting night.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Dawn felt like she was being watched. It was a nagging feeling that started somewhere around fourth period, just after track and just before history. Now it was eighth period and more than halfway through English class, the school day almost over, and the feeling was still there. Worse than ever. Tapping her pen against her teeth, she glanced out the window at Tompkins Street. There were the same dingy, graffiti-covered apartment buildings across the street that had been there yesterday. The same run-down coffee shop. The same kids cutting class and smoking cigarettes in front of the coffee shop, too. Nothing out of the ordinary. Unless you counted the creepy feeling she had.

This wasn't Sunnydale, Dawn told herself. This was Thomas Wayne High. As far as she or any of the Scoobies knew, there were no Hellmouths in the basement. The portal that had opened before Ra's Al Ghul's first attack was a good twenty blocks away and it was closed. Well, maybe dormant was the right word, since the energy field that created it was still there, despite Willow's best efforts.

Pulling her attention back to her teacher's discussion of imagery in A Farewell to Arms, Dawn waited for the bell. There were some extra protection charms in her locker that she figured couldn't hurt to have with her on the walk back to the apartment. And if all else failed, she still had her trusty cell phone with Buffy on speed dial.

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"More coffee, sir?"

Scarecrow tore his gaze from the coffee shop window and offered a curt nod to the waitress, watching her refill his cup. Task completed, she hesitated for a half second for some acknowledgement, but getting none, she moved back to the counter to serve the gaggle of high school girls that had just entered. None of them paid him any mind. Why should they? If they looked, they wouldn't have recognized Scarecrow, camouflaged as he was in his guise of Doctor Jonathan Crane. Crane's suit hung a bit looser on Scarecrow's body, but he supposed that only gave credence to the illusion that he was either a poor graduate student or an underpaid substitute teacher.

Turning back to the window, he again focused on the glowing form of the girl sitting near the window of a second floor classroom. The Key. Somehow, Crane hadn't recognized what she was when they'd met at Arkham, though Scarecrow had known and filed that knowledge away until it could be used. Scarecrow always knew.

When Drusilla first suggested taking the Slayer's sister to begin a campaign of fear against the Slayer, Scarecrow's interest had been piqued as he recalled that the sister was something more than ordinary. Locating the girl was easier than he'd imagined. Drusilla, it seemed, knew other vampires in the city and they, in turn, knew the Slayer was in the Narrows. There was only one high school in the Narrows and now here he was, watching and waiting.

Taking the girl during daylight was the right approach, he'd explained to Drusilla. After sunset, the Slayer would be alert for attacks. She wouldn't be expecting this nor anything else that would follow.

The bell signaling the end of the period rang, echoing itself on the speakers mounted outside by the fenced off concrete that served as a schoolyard. Scarecrow smiled. His new patient would be coming out any minute…

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"Hmmmm."

"What? What's hmmm," Buffy asked Willow.

The redhead paced across the small confines of the apartment. It, like everything else in the Narrows, had seen better days. Not even the scented candles that she'd lit to add warmth and charm to the otherwise drab space did anything to dispel the sense of hopelessness that seemed to permeate this part of Gotham. And somehow, despite the protection spells she'd put in place, Willow couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled on her the second they'd set foot in the Narrows.

Turning to Buffy, Willow fingered a small fetish that she'd put in a corner. "What Batman told you last night about the way Al Ghul found somebody to take the blue poppies and turn them into airborne weaponized hallucinogens… Well, it made me think about Jenny Calendar."

Buffy quirked an eyebrow. "Will, I mean no offense when I reply: huh?"

A smile spread slowly across Willow's face. "Every single story we found about Ra's Al Ghul and the destruction of cities or towns talked about fear. Our first thought was that he used fear demons or a spell. The coven back in London found a handful of spells and counter-spells using the flowers."

"And still I say: huh?"

"Each time Ra's Al Ghul laid waste to a population," Willow explained, sweeping her hair over her shoulder, "he got more sophisticated. There were diseased rats spreading plague. Fires. You name it. But there was also mass panic, worse each time, and this attack on Gotham was the worst yet. I think that may be because he found someone who could scientifically enhance what he couldn't enhance magically."

"Hence the Jenny Calendar connection," Buffy finished. "I remember. She was all about taking witchcraft into the twenty-first century."

Willow nodded. "Exactly. Unfortunately, it's not just the good guys experimenting."

"True, but somebody at Wayne Enterprises had an antidote handy."

"Which was awfully convenient."

The Slayer stiffened. "You think somebody at Wayne might be working with Al Ghul?"

"More likely, against Al Ghul, which means we might have a useful ally." Willow grinned and flexed her fingers. "It's time for a little cyber detective work to find out who commissioned the antidote."

"Who? What about why?" Buffy asked, following Willow to the kitchen table, where Willow's trusty iBook was already plugged in.

Settling into a chair and tapping a couple of keys, Willow peered at Buffy over the screen. "Once we know the who, you and your new bat-friend can work on the why together."

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Fifteen blocks, Dawn told herself, as she walked down the school's front steps and into the street. It wasn't a long walk really and it was still daylight. She had a stake in her pocket, the charms around her neck and a couple of incantations ready if she needed them. Fifteen blocks. Piece of cake.

Hitching her backpack in place, she set off for the apartment on Skidmore Avenue. As she turned the corner of Tompkins Street onto Kane Avenue, Dawn could feel a presence behind her. Her fingers curled around the stake, feeling the reassuring roughness of the solid length of wood.

"Miss Summers."

Dawn started at the sound of her name, letting out a small squeak as she turned and saw the doctor from Arkham Asylum, the one Batman said had created the toxin. The one who was now calling himself Scarecrow because he'd gotten a heavy dose of his own drug, courtesy of Batman. Crane looked pretty much the way she remembered him from Arkham, a slight, incredibly uptight condescending technically good-looking man in an expensive suit. The one difference – really big difference – was that she knew he was dangerous and certifiably crazy. Dawn swallowed hard and tightened her grip on the stake. "D-doctor Crane."

He smiled slowly, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm pleased you remember me, Miss Summers."

As he took a step closer, Dawn stepped back, sliding the stake from her jacket pocket and slipping it up the sleeve of her windbreaker, just the way Buffy taught her, so that she had it concealed but ready. "Is there something you wanted?"

"Yes." This time the smile reached his eyes, but it was the feral grin of a predator. "I want to see what makes you scream."

Dawn threw her backpack at him, hitting Crane or Scarecrow or whoever he was in the face. "You wanted to see it," she told him, taking off at a sprint, "There you go. Trig makes me scream every time."

She ran, turning corners down unfamiliar streets, hearing Scarecrow's – because this thing chasing her had to be Scarecrow and not Crane – breathing as he pursued her. The one good thing about Sunnydale was that the streets were well-paved. Such was not the case in the Narrows. Dawn had to dodge homeless people with their shopping carts, potholes, cracks and uneven sidewalk and cope with the fact that she'd only been living here a few weeks. Ducking around a corner, Dawn realized she'd run into a dead end alley. Spinning on her heel, she saw Scarecrow standing there, blocking the only way out with a triumphant grin on his face.

"You don't want to do this," she told him, lowering her right arm, letting the stake slide into her hand. It wasn't right, staking a human, but she didn't have to go for the kill. All she had to do was wound him enough to slow him down and call the police.

"I think I do." He took a step closer.

One thing Dawn had learned from watching Buffy and the other Slayers fight was that there was a time for banter and a time for fighting. Faith, of all people, taught her that sometimes the best strategy was just to go straight for the kill. Without hesitation, she launched a kick at Scarecrow that sent him stumbling backwards. She followed it with another. Backing him against the wall, she aimed a punch at his jaw, her fingers still curled around the stake.

He caught her fist in his own and squeezed with surprising strength for a man of his build. The stake clattered to the ground as Scarecrow reversed their positions, pushing Dawn against the brick wall of the alley. His other hand came up and pressed itself over her mouth and nose. There was a familiar sickly sweet scent and as the world started going black, Dawn's last thoughts were, 'Damn. Chloroformed again.'

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Dawn moaned softly as she fought her way back to consciousness. Struggling to focus her eyes, she felt a hand slide under her head, lifting it slightly and a straw press against her lips.

"Here, drink this," said a soft, reassuring voice. "Sip slowly."

She obeyed, sipping at the water. As her vision came back into focus, she saw Scarecrow looking down at her with a smug smile.

"And how are we feeling?" he asked, taking away the water and the hand supporting her head.

"Like somebody chloroformed me," Dawn said, between clenched teeth. She tried to move her arms and found that she couldn't. Her legs were also tied down. Craning her neck, she saw that she'd been dressed in white hospital scrubs bearing the words Arkham Asylum. Not good. She tugged in vain, trying to free at least one limb.

"My assistant was kind enough to retrieve a bed and restraints for you. I wouldn't bother struggling if I were you. I've had a good deal of experience restraining patients." Scarecrow told her, stepping back, he turned and nodded at someone just out of her line of vision. "Ah, my assistant is here, Miss Summers. I do believe you know each other."

Drusilla came into view and Dawn could feel a sensation of dread curling in her stomach. "Oh, such a pretty green glow," the vampire exclaimed, staring down at Dawn. "How brightly she burns!"

Dawn swallowed hard. Of course Drusilla could see it. She was crazy. Which meant…

Scarecrow moved closer again and ran a finger along Dawn's cheek. "You would expect something that glows so brightly to be very hot or very cold to the touch. But, no, our Miss Summers is an ordinary 98.6 degrees."

"We could change that," Drusilla suggested, leaning down and baring her fangs with a low growl. "She could be room temperature."

"No." Scarecrow nudged Drusilla away. "At least, not yet. Not without trying to treat her."

"I don't need treatment," Dawn protested, quickly, knowing it wasn't going to do any good except stall for time while she thought of a way out of this mess. "I'm fine. Really. Never better."

"Fine," echoed Scarecrow. Leaning close to her ear, his face filled her vision. She felt his fingers brush her wrists. "These scars on your wrists say otherwise."

Dawn suddenly felt dizzy as she remembered cutting herself when she found out what she really was. Am I real, she'd asked. Is this blood?

And then she felt Scarecrow's touch at her stomach, where Doc cut her to open the portal for Glory. His blue eyes stared intently into hers as he said, "And these, Dawn. You cut yourself to let the pain out, don't you? We're going to talk about the pain."

His face was too close and his breath was hot on her face. And that smirk. Frantically, Dawn tried to think of a spell – any spell – that could help. When he took her clothes, he took her defensive charms and anything that might have been useful in casting a spell to free herself. All she had was whatever skill she'd learned. And anger. She had anger. Anger, Dawn thought, just might be enough. "Blessed be the name of D'Hoffryn. L-let this space be now a gateway to the world of Arash Ma'har, where demons are spawned. We come in supplication. We bend as the reed in the flow of the…uh….whatever. D'Hoffryn. I summon you! I seek vengeance!"

Scarecrow backed away quickly looking around. After what seemed like an eternity, he leaned over Dawn again. "Guess he's not coming."

"Maybe not, but Buffy will." She hoped. Before one or both or however many of Crane's personalities there were killed her or drove her mad.

"By then we'll have made progress in your treatment." The smirk that Dawn had come to dread in such a short time was back. "You know, good and evil are classifications that Doctor Crane was trained to reject. But Scarecrow recognizes what you are, what The Key is. Evil. A primal, evil force. What does such a powerful being fear, Dawn?"

"Y-you're making me angry," Dawn ventured. "I'm powerful. You sure you wanna make me angry?"

"No," he said, his voice low and menacing and, Dawn realized, the true persona of whatever Scarecrow was. "I want to make you afraid."

The last thing she saw with any real clarity was Scarecrow moving in with a syringe.

And then the screaming began.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The Undead's Guide to Cemeteries. It would be sort of like a Zagat's guide, except it would be about about cemeteries. You could rate crypts for spaciousness, he supposed, and whether you were near electric so you could hook up a TV. It was a good idea, Xander decided. And there was definitely a market. Besides, a lot of Barnes and Noble bookstores were open til midnight, so his target audience could ---

"Xander."

"Gyaaaa!" Xander whirled, nearly dropping the stake he'd been holding. Okay. Maybe it served him right for daydreaming at midnight in an unfamiliar cemetery. Sheepishly, he grinned at Batman as he tucked the stake into his pocket. "Geez, sneak up on a guy…"

The masked man's lips curled. "I called your name. Twice."

Oops. "I was, uh, focusing –"

"Undead's Guide to Cemeteries?"

"And apparently brainstorming out loud," Xander admitted. "There's an audience for it and with bookstores open late –"

"I get it," Batman cut him off, his tone implying that he'd rather not. "Where's Buffy?"

A twig snapped somewhere behind him and Xander glanced quickly over his shoulder just in time to see what had to be Ratzilla taking a leisurely stroll through the dark, overcrowded and overgrown cemetery. Stifling a shudder of disgust, he turned his attention back to Batman – who he wasn't entirely sure he liked – and said, "There's been a complication."

Batman said nothing, just drew a breath and continued to focus his stare on Xander.

"Dawn's missing." Xander guessed he was supposed to be intimidated by the staring and the overall broodiness. Yeah. Right. Repressing the urge to roll his eyes – eye, he reminded himself, there's only one – he continued. "We'd like to think it has something to do with Al Ghul, but Will made with the magicks and couldn't find anything out of the ordinary. And something's blocking her locator spells. So right now, the Buffster is tearing apart all the demon hangouts in Gotham looking for an answer."

There was a long pause as the Dark Knight studied Xander. "You think it's something else."

Xander narrowed his eye at the other man. He was pretty sure the patch ruined the effect. "You tell me. This is your town. You've got over 50 escapees from a mental institution running around, including the guy that used to run the place. Some other guy is robbing banks and killing people and leaving playing cards. Plus your usual assortment of lowlifes. So, you tell me what's more likely. Demons and vamps stupid enough to go after the Slayer's sister or some ordinary dirtbag who has no idea what he's getting himself into?"

There was another long moment of silence. "This may be my town, but I don't know enough about the demons and the…"

"Vamps," Xander supplied, even as he realized that Kevlar-boy's admitting that he was out of his element in Buffy's world probably wasn't an easy thing to do. It would be like Buffy admitting she was having a hard time finding the vamp nests in Gotham.

"Vamps," Batman repeated. "I know where the human garbage congregates –"

"The vamps and demons are in pretty much the same places," Xander interrupted. Buffy asked him to do this, but Xander felt like really should be looking for Dawn. "If they're not feeding off blood from people who won't be missed, they're feeding of the fear and despair and playing kitten poker for kicks."

Another pause and then Batman said the one thing that Xander had been waiting for that proved that there was definitely something going on or about to go on between the man in the mask and his best friend. "Those aren't the kinds of places Buffy should be going."

Bingo, Xander thought. Just a little too much concern in that comment. "I thought you knew about Slayers –"

"I do. They can die."

"She's already died. Twice." He waited a beat and let it sink in, his attention being caught by the return of Ratzilla and, apparently, Ratzilla's girlfriend. "Well? Why are you waiting here? Go help her find Dawnie."

By the time Xander tore his gaze away from the disgusting display of mutant rat sex, he discovered Batman was already gone.

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"More mashed potatoes, honey?"

Dawn blinked, startled to find herself at her dining room table, back home in Sunnydale, and then took the bowl of mashed potatoes from her mother. It wasn't….it shouldn't have been… There was a vague sense that this wasn't real. But the smell of the mashed potatoes seemed real enough. And the bowl was hot. And it was dinnertime in Sunnydale, where nothing could hurt her, right? Exactly. Spooning the mashed potatoes onto her plate, she smiled and said, "Thanks, Mom."

"This is the best Thanksgiving ever, Mrs. Summers," Angel told her mother, as he reached across the table and took Buffy's hand. "I can really enjoy it, now that I'm allowed to have moments of perfect happiness again."

Spike rolled his eyes and nudged Dawn in the side. "You'd think he's the only one with a soul, wouldn't you, the big ponce. And at least I never had to worry about getting a happy without going all evil."

"Boys," Joyce Summers scolded. "Don't ruin Dawn's Thanksgiving. This is the first real one she's had since she stopped being a glowing ball of energy."

"Look," Buffy exclaimed. "I've got the wishbone. Come on, Dawn, make a wish."

"I already know what she'll wish for," Spike said, with a grin. "She wants to die, like the rest of us."

Dawn's fingers closed around the slender bone that Buffy held out to her, a sudden burst of panic starting to rise up. "N-no, I don't. I don't want to die."

"It's fine," Buffy assured her, with a smile. "You can come back. I did. Twice."

"I came back from Hell," Angel put in. He kissed Buffy's hand. "And I've even forgiven Buffy for sending me there."

"I came back from…well, I just came back," Spike said. "After I saved the world."

Angel snorted at this. "Anyone at this table who hasn't saved the world? Get over yourself, Captain Peroxide."

"Boys," Joyce chided. "You're ruining Dawn's special day. Here, honey, have some more cranberry sauce."

Dawn reached to take the bowl and shrieked when she looked down at her mother's hands. The flesh was rotted and crawling with maggots. She pushed away from the table and looked up at her mother's face. Big mistake. It wasn't just her mother's hands. Her mother was a decaying corpse. "Oh my god….Mom! Buffy, do something!"

"What do you want me to do, Dawnie?" Buffy asked, her flesh starting to rot before Dawn's eyes.

Dawn screamed again, staring in horror as the walls of the room began to be overrun by mold and flies. There was the unmistakable smell of things that were long dead. Even though she knew it was a mistake, she looked at her mother again. And let loose another scream.

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She was still screaming when she opened her eyes. "Mommeeeeeeeeeeeeee."

"Oh," Drusilla cooed, cupping Dawn's cheek in a cool hand, her voice seeming very distant and distorted to Dawn's ears. "That's so sweet. She wants her mummy."

"Excellent," Scarecrow said, leaning over to look at Dawn, his voice was also faraway. "We've made a good deal of progress in a very short time, Dawn."

"Mom." The word slipped past her lips in a croak and she became suddenly aware of the tears wandering down her cheeks, making damp spots on the rough white cotton pillowcase beneath her head.

"Tell me about your mother, Dawn." The soft, clinical and calm voice brought her attention back to Scarecrow. Crane's voice came out of the monster and then morphed back into the monster's voice once more. "Tell me how you even had a mother when you're not real."

"I remember her mother," Drusilla announced. "Cookies and milk after school and good little girls should be in their beds before dark. Before the nasty things come out and get you."

Stepping back, the mad vampire closed her eyes and pressed her fingertips to her temples with a low moan. "These aren't my memories," she accused, her eyes snapping open and focusing on Dawn. "How did you put your memories in my head?"

Dawn's heart was still pounding and she drew a shaky breath. Maybe it was best if she didn't answer.

"You don't belong in my head," Drusilla snarled, her face contorting and her fangs becoming visible as she rounded on Dawn.

It had to be the drugs, Dawn rationalized somewhere in the back of her mind, because she took one look at the vamped-out Drusilla and shrieked again, struggling wildly against the leather straps that held her down.

"Dawn. Be still." Crane's soft, reassuring voice drew her attention back to him. If she didn't know his other side, she would have been comforted by that voice. It was Crane, not Scarecrow, who was studying her with his vivid blue eyes, looking as harmless as the Sunnydale Junior High guidance counselor.

Dawn wondered who she was looking at. Was it the man, the madman or something else entirely. "What are you?"

A hint of a smile played on his lips as the soothing guidance counselor went away and was replaced with something soulless. "I was Crane, but now I'm Scarecrow."

"Yes, you have evolved, haven't you, Doctor?" A new voice came from somewhere behind her head and Dawn couldn't see who possessed this deep, commanding voice.

Drusilla made a small, keening sound and backed away, fangs still bared. Even Scarecrow was staring in obvious shock at the person Dawn still couldn't see but could almost sense coming towards her.

A large, gentle hand cupped her face and she found herself suddenly staring up at a man somewhere in his late forties, wearing a tasteful charcoal gray silk suit and looked at her with soft brown eyes. There was the tiniest hint of wonder in his voice as he asked, "What have we here?"

For reasons that escaped her, Dawn's heart started hammering in her chest and she shivered, even as the stranger's thumb stroked her cheek. Biting her lip, she just stared at him. And realized in her fear exactly who he was. "Ra's al Ghul."

A genuinely warm smile crossed his face. "And you are The Key."

Oh no. He was crazy, too.

As if he could read her mind, he chuckled softly. "An unfortunate side effect, I'm afraid."

"S-side effect of what?"

Al Ghul's hand slid down to her throat, but just rested there, hinting at dangers to come. "A tale for another day, dear child." Turning his attention to Scarecrow, the smile faded and his expression grew hard and commanding. "It's time to continue our work together….Scarecrow, is it?"

Dawn could feel pulsing energy and twisted in time to see the air behind Ra's Al Ghul ripple and distort. Black shapes emerged and became defined as two black-clad men, holding a girl tightly bound in chains. The girl's body was limp, head lolling to one side and her face covered under tangled dark curls. Through her own drug-induced muzzy-headedness, Dawn recognized her. "Dana."

"Slayer," growled Drusilla, raising her hands and brandishing her talon-like fingernails. "Filthy, nasty Slayer."

Dana's head snapped up and her eyes flew open, looking around wildly until she finally focused on Drusilla. "Head and heart. Keep cutting until you see dust."

Hissing, Drusilla took a step forward and raised her hand, preparing to swipe at the helpless Slayer when Al Ghul's voice froze her where she stood.

"No. You are not to touch her." Turning his attention back to Scarecrow, Al Ghul said, "This Slayer is mine. Or will be, once Scarecrow completes his work with her."

"You can't," Dawn protested. "She's psychotic! Dangerous!"

Arching an eyebrow, Scarecrow grinned down at Dawn. "Psychotic? Yes. Dangerous, hardly. I believe that's been taken care of, hasn't it?"

"Yellow makes you weak." Dana spoke up again, glaring at Scarecrow, not so far out there that she didn't recognize that she was in danger. "Brown makes you sleepy."

"And what does blue make you, Dana?" Scarecrow asked her.

Dana's face contorted with rage. "Can't hurt me. Can't hurt me anymore."

"The blue makes you scared, doesn't it?"

"Head and heart. Burn the Scarecrow."

"Burn," he echoed, glancing back at Dawn. "That's a new one. What do you think, Dawn?"

Dawn swallowed hard. She was outnumbered four to one by a psychotic vampire, a psychotic vampire slayer, a psychotic psychiatrist and a psychotic whatever Al Ghul was. What did she think? That there was big trouble coming.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

It was unseasonably warm. The sky was clear, the moon was full and the stars were up there, somewhere, but the streetlights made it impossible to see them. It would have been a beautiful mid-November night if it were anywhere else. Even Sunnydale. This, however, was Crime Alley and nothing about it was beautiful. What it was, was sad.

Sunnydale had its share of problems, Buffy knew, but this sort of human misery was not among them. There was a hopelessness that pervaded this part of Gotham. Even some of the worst parts of Europe that she'd seen last year couldn't compare to the Narrows. Homelessness. The strong preying on the weak. And above all, a sense of hopelessness and despair that permeated the air Buffy breathed. Even though Willow had assured her that Gotham wasn't under any kind of spell, Buffy still found it hard to believe. Even harder to believe was that Gotham made her nostalgic for the Hellmouth.

Sunnydale, being a middle class kind of town, didn't have homeless and for the most part, it didn't really have any crime. She supposed some of that had to do with the former mayor. It was easier being the Slayer in a place where the only problems involved the supernatural bad guys. It was also easier living in a place that had a population of 38,500. Gotham was home to over 5 million.

Finding Dawn was going to be impossible if Batman refused to help.

She knew what Giles would say. Xander already said it. But the fact was that Gotham was Batman's city, the way Sunnydale had been hers. Her fight was on his territory. Cooperating was the right thing to do, which meant sharing information with him.

"You lost, doll?" The gravelly voice came from behind her, to her left. A second set of soft footsteps on the pavement told Buffy that he had a friend with him.

Turning slowly, Buffy regarded the two men. Human, yes, but definitely lacking in the good intentions – and the hygiene --department.

"Or maybe you're lookin' for something," the taller of the two suggested. His pupils were huge in his gaunt unshaven face and he smelled like he hadn't showered in days. "Maybe we can help you find it."

The shorter, paler one nodded in agreement. "Pretty girl like you shouldn't be wanderin' around here by yourself. You could get hurt."

They were both high on something. Chances were slim they were high on the right something, but she tried anyway. "Know where I can score some Orpheus?"

Rasping out a sound that was half-cough and half-laugh, the shorter one nudged his friend. "Orpheus. Honey, they don't sell them fancy designer drugs down here."

"Maybe you give us the money, we can get you some Orpheus, sweet thing," the tall one put in. He pulled out a switchblade. "Better yet, just give us the money."

Resisting the urge to sigh, Buffy gave him her most bored look. "Why don't we skip the part where I beat the hell out of you and you just tell me who's peddling the Orpheus in this town?"

Tall Ugly snorted. "You? You're gonna beat the hell out of us?" And then he burst into laughter.

This time she gave in to her urge and heaved a weary sigh. "This is a new suede jacket. Try not to bleed on it, will you?"

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"I don't know! Please don't hurt me anymore!"

The frightened wail rose up to the rooftop where Batman stood, looking down at the scene in the street below. One thug was unconscious and the other was cringing up against the grimy brick façade of the abandoned apartment building. Buffy's fist curled and hovered in the vicinity of the thug's nose.

"I swear I don't. Please…God…help! Help!"

It would have been funny. Hell, it was funny. Buffy was maybe five-foot-four and she had a man nearly a foot taller than her and who outweighed her by at least fifty pounds cowering in terror. Batman launched himself down the side of the building and landed behind Buffy. The thug's eyes grew even wider at this new development and his mouth dropped open with a pitiful whimper.

"I'm here to help," Batman said, wryly, to the thug.

"I've got it," Buffy told him, glancing at him quickly over her shoulder.

Ignoring her, he lunged forward and grabbed the punk, slamming him against the building once more. "She asked you a question," Batman growled.

Panting, the punk's eyes started to tear up. "I swear I don't know. I ain't never heard of no Orpheus 'til she mentioned it. Please, Batman, don't let her hurt me no more."

Since when did the scum in this town fear a petite blonde more than him, Batman wondered.

With a light touch on his arm, Buffy said, "Alright, let him go. He doesn't know anything."

For a second, he considered debating with her, but the battered state of the man made it pretty obvious that Buffy had been thorough in her interrogation. Batman dropped the punk to the pavement, where he crawled over the body of his unconscious companion, scrambled to his feet and ran down the street.

Buffy watched the man disappear around a corner and then rounded on Batman. "I said I had it."

"Orpheus?" he asked, changing the subject.

Scowling, Buffy changed it back. "I can handle this –"

"I'm sure you can."

"Liar." With that, the fight went out of her and she flashed him a brief, sad smile. "You and I both know I've been here three weeks. Look at me. I'm so new in town I can't even find the demon bars."

"I live here," he admitted. "And I never even knew demon bars existed."

"You're not a Slayer. You shouldn't have to worry about demons." She looked down at the sleeve of her lilac-colored suede jacket and frowned. "I ruin more clothes this way… Orpheus is a magically enhanced drug. Humans take it, vamps drink from the humans and everybody gets a happy. Overdose and it sucks you down to hell. Still want to know about demons?"

"Looks like I'm going to have to learn, if I'm going to help you find your sister, your missing Slayer and help you stop an apocalypse."

Buffy looked up at him with obvious relief. "Thank god. I'm one Slayer and this is a big city."

He realized in that moment that he actually _wanted_ to help, not just because he could but because…No. This wasn't the time or place to think about those kinds of things. There was business to attend to first. A city to save. Reaching for his belt, he retrieved a grappling hook and shot it upwards, snagging it firmly on a building ledge. Buffy was watching him with amusement. "What?"

"Is that how you get around?"

"Some of the time," he allowed. "I take it you have different method."

"I can't drive, so mostly foot and public transportation."

"That's a bit of a disadvantage in a city this size."

"So I've noticed." She grinned at him again. "What now?"

He hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her close. "Now we take a tour."

With that, he hit the trigger and they glided silently but swiftly upwards.

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The screaming was a living thing that clawed at her chest.

Okay, maybe that was a little melodramatic, Dawn decided. But they were torturing Dana. Or more precisely, Scarecrow was torturing Dana while Drusilla and al Ghul watched. It gave her the chance to struggle with the straps holding her down and see if she could work herself free. So far, all she'd accomplished was rubbing her wrists raw.

Suddenly, the screaming stopped.

Dawn twisted around to see why and discovered that the Slayer was unconscious. Only unconscious. Not dead. She let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding and realized too late that she'd just managed to make herself the focus of attention again.

The not-quite-there look in Scarecrow's eyes reminded her of Glory and she shuddered with the memory of the insane hell god. This wasn't exactly the same sitch but it was damn close. Seeing her reaction, a grin of pure malevolent pleasure lit up Scarecrow's face. "Ah, Dawn…"

Great, she thought to herself. Nice going, Dawn.

With what seemed like one long effortless stride, he was at her side, peering down at her hungrily. Dawn felt her stomach lurch, not with fear, but with disgust. It was hard to believe he was only a man.

"Oh dear. Look what you've done to yourself," he chided, encircling her right wrist in his long, slender fingers. They were the soft hands of a doctor. Too bad they were attached to a madman. Squeezing her already-painful wrists through their leather restraints, he asked, "You weren't thinking of trying to leave, were you?"

Whatever drug he'd given her earlier must have worn off because she was able to manage a disgusted eye-roll. "Well, you know, I really hate to miss your little freakapalooza but I have an elsewhere to be. Besides, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, ending the world without nachos."

"Such charming bravado." Scarecrow's evil grin didn't falter in the slightest.

"What? You think you're so freaksome, John Tesh?" What was freaksome, was that she was starting to sound an awful lot like Buffy. "You're not half as scary as your two friends over there. Compared to them, you're just a Shemp with a stupid mask."

Okay, she'd definitely pushed his buttons, because the man was growling. "I am the Master of Fear," he grated at her.

And she knew exactly what Xander would have said to _that. _It had to be the drugs because she had an overwhelming urge to laugh. So overwhelming in fact, that a snort of laughter managed to escape.

"You find me amusing, do you?" Scarecrow asked, leaning over her, filling her vision. Abruptly, he backed away and snatched a fresh syringe from the metal table attached to her hospital bed. "Let's see how amusing I am to you when I give you a stronger dose."

Uh-oh.

"You're not laughing now, I see."

Mouth completely dry, Dawn tried to think of a retort that might buy her a couple of minutes. Fortunately, she didn't have to think long because Dana came awake with a scream of pure rage. Scarecrow looked torn for a moment and then set the syringe down.

He started to walk away and then abruptly stopped. Turning back to Dawn, he leaned down and put his lips uncomfortably close to her ear. "I'm looking forward to our next session, Dawn."

Dawn amazed herself by retorting, "Don't forget the stupid mask."

"Oh, I won't, little Key." Brushing his lips lightly against her cheek, Scarecrow promised, "Neither will you."

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"Okay, whose bright idea was it to name this place My Alibi?" Buffy asked loudly. A couple of heads turned, but that was it. This wasn't Willie's Bar and she was definitely not in Sunnydale anymore. And maybe she should have checked when the last time – if ever – was that Gotham had a Slayer because the locals were obviously not impressed.

"Allow me." No sooner did her companion speak the two words than there was a frantic scramble for the door. A heartbeat later, the bars occupants were being hurled around like rag dolls by the black blur that was Batman.

Figured. Him, they were impressed by. Not that he wasn't impressive. Batman was just a man but he had fighting techniques that she'd never seen before. And he moved as fast – possibly faster – than she could. Speed. And efficiency. She could learn a lot from Batman, assuming he was willing to teach her.

A flash of movement behind the bar broke her reverie and she reached out in a lightning fast movement of her own to grab the man who was deperately trying to evade notice.

"Slayer?"

"Willie?" Buffy blinked in surprise as she dragged the scrawny familiar man to his feet. "What are you doing here?"

"I moved here and bought a bar. My old one in Sunnydale kind of went under, ya know?"

"That was an awful pun," she grimaced. Then she tightened her grip on his ugly Hawaiian shirt. If it tore, she decided, it would be a mercy killing. "I need information."

"Do I look like some kind of snitch to you?" Willie asked loudly, segueing into their old routine. And then his already pasty face paled as he looked past Buffy.

No need to guess who he was looking at. From the overwhelming sound of quiet, she figured he was done scaring Willie's patrons. "I've got it," she told Batman, fixing him with a stern look. "I mean it this time. Willie and I are old friends from Sunnydale."

"By all means," he replied, dryly, standing right behind her.

Look at that. There was a sense of humor under all the broody. Releasing her hold on Willie, Buffy folded her arms across her chest and demanded, "What do you know?"

Willie straightened his shirt collar and wiped at his nose. "Not much. Rumors, mostly. That fear drug that got dumped in the water, ya know, people thought maybe it was a really powerful fear demon –"

"I know that already," Buffy interrupted impatiently. "Tell me something I don't know."

"Well, if ya didn't interrupt, Slayer, I would." Willie gave her a wounded look. "I heard a rumor that Drusilla came here looking for the fear demon and decided like a lot of other newcomers to stay for the apocalypse. Which accounts for the clientele downstairs."

"Downstairs? This place has a downstairs?" Buffy looked around doubtfully.

"No, " Willie corrected her, "the bar is called Downstairs. Nice place. They have karaoke night and everything."

She glanced quickly at Batman. No reaction. Or he was hiding it really well. Probably, he was hiding it. Who would believe something that stupid. "A karaoke demon bar? You expect me to believe that?"

"I don't lie to you, Slayer. Not since that one time."

"You'd better not lie to her or you'll answer to me," Batman growled.

Willie went even paler. Buffy turned around quickly. "What did I say about having this under control?"

"Even you have to admit that a karaoke demon bar doesn't exactly have the ring of truth," he countered.

It didn't, really, but then again, she'd seen weirder. Kitten poker, for example. "If he's lying, he's all yours."

Willie started to shake. "Y-you wouldn't, Slayer –"

"You said you weren't lying."

"I'm not!"

"Then you have nothing to be afraid of."

"Hey! Yeah!" Brightening, Willie stopped shaking and reached for a cocktail napkin. Reaching into his pocket for a pen, he began writing. "You'll need this to get in. The owner's got this spell that keeps the place hidden so no humans can find it. Also heard he's got some kind of spell that stops fights. I oughtta look into that…"

"You probably should," Buffy told him, sneaking another peek at her companion. No reaction. For a guy who knew nothing about Slayers and magicks, he wasn't doing any of the usual scoffing or eye rolling. It was a nice change. He noticed her looking and they locked eyes until Willie shoved the cocktail napkin under her nose, breaking the moment.

"Remember, Slayer –"

"I never got this from you."

It was time to go Downstairs.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

He was thirsty. It was the first time in hours that Scarecrow even considered his own needs. Turning from Dana, who was now sleeping peacefully, courtesy of the trigger word he'd successfully programmed into her, he reached for the pitcher of water that Drusilla had left on the scarred wooden table that served as his desk. Drusilla had put the pitcher there at some point during the session and he recalled that she mentioned that something about dinner and being back before sunrise. Glancing around, he realized she'd gone on a hunt.

"She promised to bring you back something as well, "al Ghul told him. The older man was seated behind the wooden desk, sketching Scarecrow's other patient, Dawn, as she slept. Unlike Dana, Dawn's sleep was fitful and al Ghul captured her less-than-relaxed expression with uncanny accuracy. Setting his pencil down, al Ghul smiled. "Impressive work, Scarecrow."

Taking a long swallow of water, Scarecrow strode over to the sleeping Key and responded quietly. "Dana is very unstable. My initial success is encouraging, but it will be several more days before I can comfortably say that she'll be useful to you."

He barely registered al Ghul's presence at his side and started when the older man spoke. "I have every confidence in your abilities. You haven't failed me yet."

Dawn moaned softly in her sleep, still suffering the residual effects of the small dose of the lysergic acid cocktail he'd given her earlier. Her slender body twitched and she suddenly cried out, her eyes flying open and panting heavily as the word 'glory' escaped her lips. Her gaze was unfocused as she looked at him, a bleary-eyed smile on her face. "Ben…."

Ben. Scarecrow jotted the name in the yellow legal pad with the rest of his notes about Dawn, along with the word 'glory' and a question mark next to it. When he turned his attention back to Dawn, she was fully awake and her gaze was nervously ticking between him and al Ghul. It was petty of him, he supposed, but he took the burlap mask from its place on the metal table next to the notepad and flicked it onto her chest. He was rewarded with a shriek.

With a cold smile, Scarecrow lifted the mask off of her, put it back into place and made a show of noting her reaction on his notepad, well aware that she was watching his every move. Her rapt attention was almost as pleasing as her scream had been.

"You….bastard," Dawn croaked at him, when he favored her with his attention again.

Al Ghul chuckled softly. "Poor Dawn. You did taunt him about that mask, you know." And then, the older man did something completely unexpected. He began unbuckling the straps that held Dawn in place. Looking up and catching Scarecrow's surprised expression, he smiled reassuringly. "She's not a threat to us."

Not a threat? The girl glowed!

"Dawn is the Key," al Ghul allowed, freeing the girl's legs and rubbing her ankles to restore circulation. "However, it's quite obvious that she has no knowledge of how to control that power. If she did, you and I wouldn't be having this conversation. In fact, you'd never have taken her in the first place. I am correct, yes, Dawn?"

"Get off of me," she hissed at him through clenched teeth.

Releasing her ankles, al Ghul moved up to her wrists, freeing them and made a small, irritated noise at the chafed skin beneath the restraints. She started to sit up, but he pushed her back down and held her forearms. "Free yourself."

"What?"

"Free yourself," he repeated.

Dawn stared at al Ghul in disbelief. "Y-you're crazy."

"Perhaps. And now I have you at my mercy. I can do anything I want to you. Scarecrow won't help you. He might help me, should I request it. Or I can simply give you to him and allow him to amuse himself by destroying your mind. After that, I suppose Drusilla can have whatever is left." Al Ghul leaned in closer and from the pained look on Dawn's young face, Scarecrow was certain that al Ghul tightened his grip. "You don't want that, do you, Dawn? What are you going to do about it?"

Dawn's head shot up, her forehead colliding with al Ghul's, even as she attempted to ram her knee between his legs. She missed, but managed to loosen his grip enough to roll off of the hospital bed and onto the hard, concrete floor of the abandoned generator room they were using as their base of operations. Rolling over, she crab-walked backwards, trying to put some distance between herself and al Ghul. It was painfully obvious that he was toying with her, giving her time to struggle shakily to her feet.

With a subtle gesture, he silently let Scarecrow know that he did not want Scarecrow to interfere with his test of the girl's abilities. Scarecrow nodded, but still slipped quietly over to the small metal tray by the bed and picked up the vial of sedative. Dawn was on her feet now, surveying the room, obviously looking for a weapon. Scarecrow could recall Crane's experiences with patients who'd gotten similarly out of hand. Each one had ended up in a snug straitjacket, sedated and sleeping off their tantrums in solitary. In a couple of cases, Crane had ended up with a split lip and a few bruises. This wasn't a tantrum, Scarecrow knew. This was al Ghul, pushing the girl to her limits to prove his theory correct. In any case, Crane's medical expertise would be needed, either to sedate the girl or stitch her back together.

"G-get away from me," Dawn warned, backing up, even as al Ghul advanced.

"Or what?" al Ghul asked mildly. "Dana can't help you. Scarecrow won't. The only one who can help you is you, and you don't seem to be doing an effective job at all."

Dawn curled her hands into fists, raising them. "I think I'm being pretty effective," she countered. "I'm here. You're there. And the door's –"

"Behind me," al Ghul finished. "There are only two possible outcomes. It is a matter of how badly you want to leave. How badly _do _you want to leave, Dawn?"

It was obvious to Scarecrow that she wanted very, very badly to leave, but knew that she was hopelessly outmatched. Her fists shook and then a tremor ran through her young body. The fear emanating from her was almost palpable. And then she did something completely unexpected. Dawn lowered her fists, stood up straight and squared her shoulders. "No."

"No?" Al Ghul repeated, clearly amused.

Dawn shook her head. "I'm not fighting you."

"Why not?"

"Because…"

"Yes?" He took another step towards her. "Tell me."

"Because of what you are."

"And what am I?"

"Immortal. Some…some kind of demon…"

"Immortal, yes, but not a demon. Not exactly."

"P-part demon?"

"Like your friend, Cordelia Chase? I suppose that's a very facile way of defining me." Al Ghul smiled, obviously enjoying the chance to toy with the girl. "Don't look so surprised, little one. I've made it a point to be very much aware of the activities of your sister and her friends. Her defeat of the First Evil was almost as impressive as Angel's self-destruction."

Dawn took a small step backwards, still not touching the wall, but one more step would do it. The names meant nothing to Scarecrow but they clearly had power over the girl. And he was learning more with each passing minute.

"And yet, despite what I've studied about your sister, the Slayer, your existence remained hidden from me," al Ghul mused. "There is not much in this world that is hidden from me, Dawn."

Scarecrow watched Dawn back into the wall, pressing against the rough concrete as if perhaps she might melt into it and escape. It was painfully obvious that Ra's was right, that as powerful as she appeared to be, she was completely helpless.

Al Ghul's head snapped in Scarecrow's direction. "Scarecrow. When you look at Dawn, what do you notice about her?"

Helpless. Powerful. Green. Glowing. Death. There were so many impressions all at once. He picked the one that intrigued him the most. "She's not real."

"Not real," al Ghul repeated, his eyes boring into Dawn's. "And yet she's very real. Very human. Very…fragile. A contradiction created by someone very skilled with magicks. Created, I would guess, fairly recently, because I would certainly have been aware of Dawn's existence had she been alive for the sixteen years she appears to be. How old are you, really, Dawn?"

"I-I'm…older than time?" Dawn ventured. "Older than recorded history?"

Al Ghul smiled again and stepped closer to her, placing a palm on the wall on either side of her face, effectively trapping her and standing in her space. It was the next logical step, Scarecrow knew, combining the mental threat with a physical one. "Yes, you are, little Key. Perhaps I need to clarify my question. How long have you been in this form?"

Another tremor shook the girl and Scarecrow could sense they were on the cusp of discovering something important. Some knowledge that went beyond the science that Jonathan Crane used to elevate himself. Knowledge of older, more powerful things that Ra's al Ghul used to rise to his position of power. The Key was powerful and Scarecrow knew that if they could control that power…the possibilities…

"Answer me, Dawn." Al Ghul was now scant inches from her, the threat growing more explicit with each grated syllable.

Dawn swallowed hard. "I'm sixteen. There are birth records…school records…I don't know –"

"Do not lie to me," al Ghul thundered, eliciting a squeak of pure fear from the girl. He drew a heavy breath and regained his composure. "You are not real. You were put into this form, whether by your own hand or by the hand of someone else. We cannot unlock your potential until we understand how you came to be in this form."

"I'm just a girl," she pleaded. "Really…"

Al Ghul closed his eyes and took a step away from her. "Scarecrow."

He knew what was coming, what was going to be asked of him. "Yes, sir?"

"You are skilled in techniques that will get us the answers I seek, correct?"

"Yes." Scarecrow ticked off a couple of examples while he watched Dawn's reaction as she finally understood what he was, what he could do to her. "We can try hypnosis and perhaps some regression techniques. If you'd prefer a faster method, there are some drugs that I have that are quite effective, though they may have some…side effects."

"Now you see, my dear girl," al Ghul said, lowering his hands and giving her more space, "I can get the answers I seek with or without your cooperation. In fact, I can have Scarecrow make you perfectly willing to do whatever I ask. He can alter your memories or condition you to respond to certain triggers. He might also repress other memories and make you forget you have a sister or have any life beyond this room. There are many options available to me. There is but one option for you. If you do not wish to have Scarecrow tamper with your mind, you will tell me what I wish to know."

"Please…. Dawn whispered. Scarecrow felt a wave of pleasure. Now she understood who he was, what he could do to her. Finally, she was properly afraid of him. Her eyes met his in a silent plea for help. His response was a cold smile.

"Very well." Al Ghul turned from her with a grim expression. "You may begin, Scarecrow."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Oh my Goddess," Willow breathed, looking up at Batman with obvious awe.

"You must be Willow," Batman said, displaying no awe that Xander could see. Even the man's voice was expressionless. Okay, maybe that was because Willow didn't appear threatening or act threatening. But if you knew who she was, what she could do…which this Bat-guy obviously didn't or obviously did, when he added, "The witch."

"With my handy demon bar locating spell." Willow held up a small tan suede pouch and gave one of her sweet Willow smiles that seemed to light up the dreary abandoned lot they were standing in. "No demon necessary. Just make with the incantation and voila."

Buffy grinned. "You had time to put together a locator spell?"

Willow made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "Easier to do a locator spell than make a lasagne."

"Speaking of which," Xander commented, "you think maybe they'll have buffalo wings? We skipped dinner and this working man is hungry." He grinned and puffed up his chest, just a little as he delivered the big news. "I got the job. Tomorrow morning, I'm laying foundation at the Wayne Mansion."

"Yay, you," Buffy told him, punching him lightly on the arm. She turned to Batman. "Isn't that great?"

"I…yes. Congratulations." The masked man looked suddenly uncomfortable, if Xander's eye didn't deceive him. Maybe he wasn't used to good news. Or maybe he worked on the site, too. Xander made a mental note to start checking out his new co-workers. Not that it really mattered who Batman was.

Buffy turned away from Batman, looking down at her boots and suggested, "We can take it from here and rendezvous with you later if you've got an elsewhere you need to be."

Xander could have sworn he saw the corners of Batman's mouth twitch ever so slightly as he replied, "No. No elsewhere."

Of course not. There were only about forty or so Arkham inmates still on the loose and that Joker guy. Yup, the attraction between Kevlar boy and the Slayer was mutual because she was beaming at him like a kid with a new toy. The Bat wasn't showing anything, as usual, but his attention was all on the Slayer. Breaking the moment, Xander shot a pointed stare at Batman. "Uh, Buff, he's gonna stick out a like a sore thumb. Even in a demon bar."

"Not a problem." Willow pulled an amulet out of her pocket. "One handy-dandy glamour coming up. This might make you sneeze."

Before Batman could react, she blew a lilac-colored powder in his direction. There was the requisite sneeze and then Xander found himself staring at --- "Giles!"

"Oh. My. God. That is so creepy," Buffy said, circling Batman. "He looks just like Giles."

Willow's grin was almost ear-to-ear. "Nifty, huh? I came up with it when I put the spell together. That way, you won't slip up and call him Batman. You just look at him and automatically think Giles."

Batman was staring down at his hands. "I don't see anything different."

"No, but we do," Willow told him. "And this way, we don't accidentally learn your secret identity. Well, not yet, anyway. Not that we're trying to, but we found out Buffy was the Slayer and…well, you know. Things happen."

"Things always happen to us," Xander put in, mock-helpfully and almost flinched when Batman/Giles gave him a very Giles-like reproachful stare. "Did everybody else see that? I've got a definite wiggins."

"I saw it and share your wig." Buffy patted him on the shoulder. "Will? Ready to go?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Somebody was singing 'I Only Have Eyes for You' and Buffy's grip on the banister faltered for just a fraction of a second. And then she tightened her grip, hard enough to threaten to rip the banister from the wall as she got a good look at the green-skinned, red-eyed demon in the bright orange suit singing the song up on the stage.

Willow elbowed her. "I know him! That's Lorne! He used to work with Angel."

Buffy was now tempted to tear the banister from the wall. Instead, she let go and led the way into the bar, where vampires and demons sat, drinking various concoctions. A vampire sipping a warm mug of O Neg took one look at her, dropped money on the bar and hurried out. A murmur went through the crowd and within minutes, the bar was empty except for the Slayer, her friends, Batman and the demon named Lorne.

Lorne put the microphone back into the stand and came slowly down the stage stairs. He glanced at Buffy and went behind the bar help himself to a drink before he faced her. "Buffy the Vampire Slayer. And Willow. It's good to see you again."

"I-it's good to see you, too," Willow said, uncertainly. "We, uh, didn't know you were in town."

"Why are you in town?" Buffy asked, an edge in her voice.

The demon took a long swallow of his drink and studied Xander and Batman. To Xander, he said, "You must be Xander Harris." Looking again at Batman, he smiled. "And you must be Batman."

Willow's glamour spell was still intact and Batman looked like Giles to Buffy's eyes. Lorne was not endearing himself to her in the least. Buffy hid her surprise. "Fine, you can see through the spell ---"

"Actually, I can't," Lorne interrupted. "I look at him and I see tweed and the whole British stiff upper lip thing and -- hey, is he supposed to be a Watcher?"

Clapping her hands once, Willow simply said, "Disparo."

With that, the glamour dropped and so did the temperature in the room as Buffy gave Lorne her fiercest scowl. "I want answers –"

"You're in right place, buttercup." Draining his glass, Lorne set it down. "That's me, the demon with all the answers. Hop up on the stage and warble away. What'll it be? A little Manilow? Angel was always partial to 'Mandy'."

"Don't," Buffy hissed. "Don't you dare talk about Angel."

"I have every right to talk about him," Lorne told her, weariness seeping over his features.

"Oh, that's right. You ran the evil law firm with him."

Raising a green hand, the demon took a step back. "Sweetcakes, I'm not getting into that with you. You made your feelings very clear when you sent your little Slayer-SWAT team to retrieve psycho-Slayer. I'm here in Gotham because the PTBs let me know that this is where I needed to be, not un-coincidentally because the same psycho-Slayer is here, too, and possibly because there might be an apocalypse. I wanted out of the hero biz, but that's the funny thing about having a gift like mine. You end up being a hero sometimes whether you want to or not. So… Here I am, and I've got some answers for you, but if you want me to read your destiny you're going to have to get up there and sing."

Buffy exchanged startled glances with Willow and Xander. Xander was the first to break the silence. "Uh, Buff, need I remind you what happened the last time you got musical?"

"And whose fault was that exactly," Buffy asked, archly. She spared a quick glance at Batman and gave him a quick recap. "Music demon, called himself Sweet. There was singing, dancing and spontaneous combustion."

"Sounds like quite a party," Batman responded.

Lorne reached over and patted Batman's shoulder. "I know. This is all a bit much too soon, Bats, but you need to roll with it. You danced with the Demon's Head once and if you're going to win this time, you're going to need to walk in Buffy's world a while."

Xander looked confused. "The demon's what?"

"The Demon's Head," Willow told him. "That's Ra's al Ghul's name in Arabic."

"So his head is a demon?" Xander asked. "Can I say, ick?"

"I think it's just a name he picked for himself," Willow replied. "But there's a definite demon connection there because he's pretty old and humans don't live that long."

"Seven hundred years, give or take a few decades," Lorne said, refilling his glass. "At least that's what was in the files at Wolfram and Hart."

Buffy's could hear the acid in her own voice. "Let me guess, he was a client."

"Not that I knew of, Goldilocks," Lorne replied, unfazed by her tone. "Then again, they had offices the world over, so maybe he was a client at one of the other branches. His was one of the names that popped up every now and again when something bad happened and we were looking at possible suspects." Turning again to Batman, Lorne offered a wan smile. "He's one of the rare ones that crosses into both worlds. But, you knew that when you went after him the first time, in the Himalayas, didn't you?"

It was the first time Batman had shown any reaction since entering the bar. With a lightning fast movement, he grabbed the green-skinned demon and slammed him against the bar. "What are you?"

"He's a reader," Willow said, laying a hand on Batman's right arm. "And not dangerous. You're hurting him."

Batman let go and Lorne smoothed his suit, wearing a look that could only be interpreted as long-suffering. "I read auras," he explained. "If you sing, I can read your soul and help you on your path. That's what I do. What I am is a demon from Pylea. Who I am, well, that depends. To my family, I'm Krevlornswath of the Deathwok Clan. To my friends, I'm Lorne. To the Powers-That-Be, I'm apparently still useful. Getting back to you, my batty friend, you do realize that you're going to tell Buffy how you know Ra's al Ghul, don't you?"

Off of Buffy's look, Lorne continued, "Secrets can tear apart the closest of allies and you two champions are going to need each other if you're going to stop Ra's al Ghul. He's immortal, but not completely. Injure him too much and he's going to need a Lazarus Pit –"

"Oh my god," Willow exclaimed. "That's how he's survived all this time. He's found a Lazarus Pit!"

"Actually, he's found a few," Lorne put in.

"Splainy?" Buffy asked. "For those of us in the studio audience?"

Willow grinned, obviously happy to finally have an answer. "It's a kind of pit that can rejuvenate the sick and the dying –"

"It's a gateway through a demon dimension," Lorne clarified. "Each time al Ghul goes through, he comes back a little more demon than when he went in. Or so they guessed at Wolfram and Hart. Wes talked about this during one of our staff meetings and said he assigned a staff to find all of the Pits. Angel was going to seal them, but…well… Anyway, since Ra's al Ghul has the Key, he doesn't need a Lazarus Pit. He can open the doorway anytime he wants ---"

Buffy slammed Lorne against the bar, using more force than Batman had. "What did you just say?"

"I'd be happy to repeat myself without your hand around my throat or a bar in my back," Lorne told her. Rubbing his neck after she released him, he shot her a wounded look. "I said he can open the doorway any time he –"

"The Key," Buffy repeated, impatiently. She could feel Batman come up behind her, ready to help her tear the place apart, no questions asked. Even if he did know al Ghul, Batman was clearly on her side and for some reason she couldn't quite name, having him there was reassuring. "What did you say about the Key?"

"A couple of vamps came in here earlier. They did a terrible duet of Me and My Shadow but I found out Drusilla and Ra's al Ghul are working together with a fear demon and that they have the Key." Realization apparently hit Lorne or else he could really read her aura. "They stole the Key from you."

Buffy sucked in a deep breath and turned to Batman. "You need to know about the Key and I need to know about your relationship with Ra's al Ghul. Lorne's right. This is no time for secrets."

Batman didn't answer at first but finally gave a slow nod of acknowledgement.

"Okay." Raising her chin, slightly, Buffy looked at Lorne. "I feel a song coming on."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

As Buffy turned to head for the stage, Batman placed a restraining hand on her shoulder. "Outside. The song can wait."

The young woman turned and regarded him for a minute with a quizzical expression before brushing past him back up the stairs and out into the alley. She stood silently, waiting for him. In the brief time that Batman had been acquainted with her, he knew well enough to expect that the silence wasn't going to last long. Buffy was clearly used to being in charge, her authority never in question.

He, on the other hand, was used to working alone.

"You're not singing, are you?" she asked, folding her arms over her chest.

"No."

"And you're not going to tell me about your relationship with al Goop, either." Buffy fixed him with a level stare. "I kinda figured that maybe you were his protégé or something until you realized he wanted to destroy the world and you wanted to save it."

The green-skinned demon was right about secrets being revealed tonight. "Something like that. And the Key? Is it some kind of Slayer weapon?"

Buffy smiled wistfully. "It's not an it. It's a who. Dawn. So now we know al Goop has Dawn. We also know al Goop is working with Drusilla. And we know that Lorne isn't completely right about some things. The fear demon he mentioned is your pal, the Scarecrow."

"He's also wrong about the Lazarus Pits," came Willow's voice. The redhead approached cautiously. "Sorry to interrupt your moment, Buff, but….Lorne sent me up here with a message for Batman. He says you need to go to the Dixon Docks. Now."

"And I'm just supposed to take his word for that?"

Willow gave him a firm look and then turned that look on Buffy. "Lorne is not a bad guy. He's on our side and he's trying to help. If he says you need to go somewhere, you should go. If it turns out to be nothing, fine. He was wrong and you can be broody skeptical guy all you want. If he's right, both of you owe him an apology for manhandling him."

"Why should I apologize?" Buffy demanded.

"Because you're blaming him for what happened to Angel and that's not his fault. Angel made his own choices, " Willow shot back. "And you don't need me to tell you that you overreacted when he mentioned Dawn. Batman's overreaction is more understandable. He's all about being spooky and secretive. Lorne exposed a secret without asking. His bad and then Batman's bad. Apologies all around. See?"

Buffy groaned. "I hate it when you're right."

"As I so often am," Willow grinned. Turning back to Batman, she pointed. "You. Docks. Now." With that, the Wicca descended the stairs and left the two alone again.

"I guess you're heading to the docks. Need help?" Buffy asked.

Shooting a line upwards, Batman shook his head. "I've got it. Besides, it sounds like you have some singing and apologizing to do. We'll meet here tomorrow night."

"Wait," she called after him. "What about your apology?"

"Tomorrow," he repeated. "Tonight, I still have work to do."

With that, he rose quickly upwards and out of sight. When he glanced back down, Buffy was gone.

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The Scarecrow took a step in her direction and Dawn emitted a squeak of pure fear. If there was anything she absolutely did not want, it was this man messing with her mind. Granted, her memories weren't all real, but they felt real and they were hers. There had to be a way to stop this, to stall until Buffy showed up…

And then she knew.

"Three years," Dawn cried, just as the Scarecrow laid a hand on her forearm. "I've been human for a little over three years."

Al Ghul smiled. "Thank you, Dawn."

The Scarecrow fingers closed around her arm anyway. "Shall I proceed?"

"I have the answers I need."

"My dears! I'm home and I brought Chinese!" Drusilla threw open the heavy steel door, hauling in a half-dead Chinese delivery boy and a shopping bag that smelled so good that it made Dawn's stomach growl. The vampire stopped in her tracks and narrowed her eyes at the scene before her. With a snarl, she dropped her victim and the food to launch herself at Dawn.

Dawn gasped to find Drusilla's fingers curled tightly around her neck and the Scarecrow sprawled on his ass. The whole thing happened in under a second.

"Release her," al Ghul commanded.

With a hiss, Drusilla let go.

Dawn rubbed her neck and discovered she was bleeding. It was a long shot, she knew, and she certainly didn't have an Orb of Thesulah, but her blood had power and Angel's line was particularly susceptible to this spell. Maybe it would be enough. The least she could do was try to even up the odds. "I know the spell that made me human."

This piqued al Ghul's interest. "Do you indeed?"

"It won't work without, uh, the symbols or drawing a circle but if I say it, maybe it'll mean something to you," Dawn suggested. "I could show you the symbols after."

"Very well. Proceed."

Dawn looked down at the blood on her fingertips. With the stars and planets properly aligned, her blood could open portals. Without them, she still had more than a simple aptitude for magic. There had to be a reason. "Quod perditum est, invenietur. Not dead…nor of the living. Spirits of the Interrgnum, I call. God, bind her. Cast her heart from the Evil Realm. Te implore, Doamne, nu ignora aceasta rugaminte. Nici mort, nici al finite…Lasa clavis sa fie vasul care – I va transporata la el Asa sa fie! As sa fie! Acum! Acum!"

There was a long, definitely pregnant pause and Dawn knew it didn't work. Maybe it was the substitution of the Latin word for key instead of the word for orb. Or maybe it was because there was no orb. She was still puzzling it out when she felt something white-hot stab her in the chest and then radiate throughout her entire body.

Drusilla screamed.

The pain and Drusilla's screaming seemed to go on forever.

Finally, it all stopped. And when it did, Dawn was on her knees and Drusilla was running around in circles, clawing at her chest and face. The vampires cries were incomprehensible but when she lashed out wildly, both the Scarecrow and al Ghul stepped out of the way.

It was exactly the distraction Dawn was waiting for. She scrambled to her feet.

"And where do you think you're going?" the Scarecrow hissed in her ear.

It wasn't even a conscious thought, just a reaction. She clasped both hands and swung upwards, connecting solidly with his chin and sending the man onto his ass for the second time in less than fifteen minutes. Dawn glanced once over her shoulder, saw that Drusilla had al Ghul cornered and took off through the open door to freedom.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"So, uh…" Buffy began.

Lorne raised a single eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest. His orange raw silk suit made a whispering noise with the motion but that was the only sound. He was waiting.

It figured he was going to make this even harder. Buffy offered him a weak grin. "I'm sorry."

As if she'd uttered a spell instead of a simple apology, the demon's face spread into a smile. "So you do have it in you! Apology accepted. Now get your little patootie over to the Narrows. There's a vampire that needs your attention."

Buffy blinked and glanced at Willow before asking, "But…but what about the song?"

"Don't need it. Go. Hurry. Sunrise is coming in an hour and you need to be across town." Lorne gave her a gentle shove in the direction of the door. "I'll meet you at your apartment around noon. We're going to have a bunch of new developments to discuss. Run along now."

"You saw where I live?" she asked suspiciously.

"On the web. Your number is listed. Now go!" He shooed her with his hands. "Go on. Vampire. Nasty, bloodthirsty vampire. Needs your attention. Bye."

Could this meeting have been any weirder? And could he have chased her out the door any quicker? Buffy doubted it. Still, she took the stairs two at a time, Xander and Willow at her heels. After the weirdness of seeing Lorne and all that entailed, doing something simple like slaying a vampire would almost be a relief.

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"Owowowowow."

Dawn made a mental note that not all jaws were made of glass and the Scarecrow's seemed to be harder than most. Her hands ached something fierce. She'd worry about it later. Her concern now was getting out of the sewers and the manhole cover was not cooperating.

Nobody was chasing her. That was the weirdest thing of all. Maybe she'd gotten lucky and Drusilla killed the lot of them. Nah. She'd never get that lucky. Although, the newly-ensouled Drusilla was probably providing one heck of a distraction.

She clambered down the stairs and continued along in the darkness. Those Harry Potter books made it seem so easy. Too bad the spell for an artificial sun required a lot more than simply saying 'Lumos.' The light would have given her away, she consoled herself. Assuming, of course, that someone was following her. Somebody should have been. It couldn't be that easy to escape. Could it?

The tunnels ahead split in two directions and neither one looked particularly appealing. Dawn paused to consider her choices.

Suddenly her vision swam and when it cleared, she was standing on a dock. And just as suddenly, the vision vanished and she was still facing the two tunnels.

Left. She needed to go left.

Trudging forward, Dawn rubbed her temples. Since when did she get visions? Possibly since she was the conduit for Drusilla's soul. Willow would know. Or Giles. Then again, maybe she was breaking totally new ground. Later. She'd figure it out later. Right now, she needed to hurry because the ninja were on their way. She'd seen _them_ on the dock, too.

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"Well, you're a mess, aren't you?"

The Scarecrow groaned as he regained consciousness. How that girl managed to knock him out, he wasn't quite sure, but when he opened his eyes he was sure of one thing. He was hallucinating.

"Get up," his hallucination ordered, nudging him in the side with a foot.

He sat up slowly and catalogued the features of this particular hallucination. Bluish gray skin. Two sets of horns. Pointy ears. Deep set eyes. Satanic beard. And maroon robes. What in his subconscious could possibly have inspired _this_?

The hallucination snapped its fingers – fingers that ended in sharp, talon-like nails, of course. "Wake up. The blood loss isn't that bad, boy."

Blood loss? _Now_ he remembered. Sometime during Drusilla's outburst, Ra's decided to move his pet Slayer to safer ground, leaving the Scarecrow to fend for himself against the obviously disturbed vampire. Fear toxin, he quickly discovered, didn't work on a creature that didn't need to breathe. The Scarecrow touched his neck lightly and discovered two puncture wounds in his neck. Well, at least the blood loss explained the hallucination.

"I'm sorry I'm late," the hallucination said, smoothing the front of his robes. "There was a little matter to attend to in Pylea and, well, that doesn't matter. I'm here now. What can I do for you?"

"Do?" the Scarecrow echoed.

"Vengeance," the hallucination snapped, irritably. "Come on, I don't have all eternity, boy. Spit it out."

Vengeance?

"You summoned me, remember?" The creature leaned over him. "D'Hoffryn, Lord of Arash Ma'har. Ruler of the vengeance demons. Ring a bell?"

D'Hoffryn. Arash Ma'har. Of course. That was the nonsense that Dawn had spouted and now he was having a hallucination about it. "Yes, I –"

"Good." D'Hoffryn stepped back and narrowed his eyes. "Wait a second. I know you. You're the human that thinks he's a fear demon." He spit on the floor. "That's what I think of fear demons. A few screams and that's it. They don't know how to inflict suffering. You want power boy, you should be a vengeance demon. You want to be a vengeance demon?"

"I'm the Master of Fear –"

"Boy, you haven't seen fear," D'Hoffryn cut him off again. "As for being the master of anything, why, you're _mortal_. Maybe to the other pathetic humans you're something to fear but to me, you're laughable. I've lived _millennia_ and I've caused suffering the likes of which even your twisted imagination couldn't fathom. Travel your path and see where your paltry abilities get you. And when you're ready to know real power, summon me with this."

A large, gaudy amulet landed next to the Scarecrow.

"I'll be waiting." And with that, D'Hoffryn vanished in a puff of smoke.

The Scarecrow waited to pass out again.

Minutes went by.

The amulet was still there.

Maybe it wasn't a hallucination. And maybe he had a little vengeance to dish out after all…

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The Dixon Docks were quiet, save for the occasional rat.

It would have been interesting if the green-skinned demon had been right, if he really could have predicted the future. Someone with that kind of ability would have been very useful ---

A scream interrupted Batman's train of thought and, on pure instinct he headed in the direction of the sound. He recognized her instantly. Dawn. And she was being chased by two of al Ghul's men.

He could handle two of them. Easily.

Dropping down from the cargo container where he'd been perched, Batman landed squarely on the first ninja and took him out. The second man was alerted and the fight began in earnest.

"Dawn, get to safety," Batman ordered.

He had to give Ra's credit; his men were still well-trained. But Batman's repertoire had expanded considerably since he donned this mask and no matter how well-trained this man was, he was not going to win.

A frightened girl was depending on him.

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"You think he was just trying to get rid of us?" Xander asked.

Buffy shook her head. "If he was just trying to get rid of us, he would have sent us to the Dixon Docks with Batman. Right, Will? I mean, you know him better than we do. What do you think?"

The red-head shrugged. "I don't really know him, _know him_, you know? I just met him that one time. But Cordy always had nice things to say about him. When she said nice things. Which wasn't often."

Xander chuckled. That was his Cordy. He missed her. And he missed Anya. But at least he wasn't alone. He glanced at his watch. "Sunrise is in half an hour, so if something is going to happen –"

A wail of despair rose up into the night.

"It's now," Xander finished, watching Buffy race off in the direction of the sound. He glanced at Willow. "Think we can get a cab?"

She snorted, shook her head and then sprinted after Buffy.

Xander looked down the street. No cabs in sight. Looked like he was going to get his exercise tonight. Three blocks later, he was gasping for air and found Buffy standing at the mouth of one of Gotham's numerous dark, dirty alleys.

"Stay back," she warned.

"What is it?" Willow asked, out of breath.

Buffy pulled a stake from her backpack. "Drusilla."

At the sound of her name, the vampire moaned and sobbed pitifully.

"She's not attacking," Xander observed. "Usually, she attacks."

"It could be a trap," Willow suggested.

"Nope, it's just Drusilla," Buffy said. She took a cautious step towards the vampire, who lay curled on her side on a cardboard box beside the corpse of a derelict.

"I tried to feed," Drusilla said plaintively. "And it _hurts_."

"It hurts?" There wasn't a shred of sympathy in Buffy's voice. "Good."

"The soul is making it hurt and my grand-mummy isn't here to make it go away! Make it go away."

Xander blinked. "Soul? She has a _soul_? Since when? And how come all the bad vampires keep getting souls? Does this mean we can't kill her, Buff?"

Buffy turned to Willow. "Is the telling the truth?"

"She has an aura," Willow said, softly. "Vampires don't normally have those."

"Great." Xander tapped his sneaker-clad foot on the pavement. "We don't have a basement for her to live in. What are we going to do with her? We can't take her back to the apartment."

"I can't kill her," Buffy countered. "As much as I'd like to. As much as she's earned it. She has a soul now and she deserves a chance to redeem herself."

"Which would be fine but she's crazy," Xander pointed out.

Buffy grinned. "That's it."

"What's it?"

She grasped his shoulder and spun him around, pointing. "Arkham. It's right over there."

"But –"

"They deal with delusions all the time. What's one more goth-girl who thinks she's a vampire? They can put her in a dark cell and we can break her out when we have a more secure location for her." Buffy's grin was infectious. "I think this is a job for Willow, don't you?"

The red-head smiled. "Piece of cake. Just give me a few seconds of access to their network and Drusilla will have the nicest padded cell in the place."

Xander glanced at his two friends and wondered if he was the only one who would be grateful to go to work when the sun rose.


End file.
